


Apologies.

by Eva



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eva/pseuds/Eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gon and Killua apologize to Mito-san after the entirety of Whale Island finds out about their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apologies.

**Author's Note:**

> Ancient HxH fic dug up from my long dead LJ.

Gon and Killua stood together, shoulders squared, heads high. They had traveled together these past seven years, tracking criminals (when they thought Kurapika wouldn’t find out), battling bad guys (defined as “criminal,” “would-be-criminal if anyone making the laws had ever thought it was necessary to say ‘hey, sending an entire town into another dimension because someone rejected you is not allowed,’” and “the guy who took the last of the sundae toppings”), saving monsters (most monsters being some sort of animal, intelligent or not, in some kind of distress), and fighting damsels (a damsel who is not in distress is not a damsel who wants to be saved; they learned this the hard way). It was a dangerous life. And neither of them would have wanted it any other way.

Except for, perhaps, today. With their greatest challenge lying in wait behind one small, weathered door.

Gon took a deep breath and turned the knob. “Hello, Mito-san?”

The pot hit the door, inches from Gon’s head. It was clear that Mito-san had yet to forgive them.

***

Oddly, it was when Killua apologized that Mito-san was more open to forgiveness. Or maybe it wasn’t odd: Killua tended to apologize only when he really, really meant to never do something again. Gon, on the other hand, readily apologized for hurting her feelings, and then went and did the same exact thing he’d done the first time all over again. So it became a war of wills. Either Mito-san would give it up, or Killua would have yet another item on the list of things Gon must be distracted from in any region that Mito-san might hear of their activities. And while Killua might like distracting Gon (a favorite in their first few years together was wrestling, something Killua could still beat Gon at today), he did not like the responsibility of having to do so.

Responsibility was for losers. And Leorio.

But Whale Island, even if Mito-san had lived there first, and lived there all the time, was not just her home anymore. It was Gon’s home, and it was Killua’s, too.

“I’m not sorry!” Killua shouted at the closed door. Gon tried to shush him, but Killua marched over to the window and yelled, “If you don’t let us in, I’ll do it again!”

He ducked another pot. He was pretty sure Mito-san only threw them because she knew they could duck them.

Pretty sure.

“A whole bunch of people followed us from the port!” he added for good measure.

“Thirty-four,” Gon said.

Killua turned to look at him, eyebrow raised high in doubt.

Gon shrugged. “I can hear them breathing.”

And Killua could hear the sound of thirty-four people simultaneously gulping air to hold their breaths.

The door was suddenly yanked open, and Gon tumbled gracelessly over the threshold. 

“Get inside if you mean to,” Mito-san snarled, and Killua jumped to it.

***

Mito-san was older. Not old; but older. There were lines at the corner of her eyes, and a few silvery strands of gray hair. Killua felt a faint sense of uneasiness, of guilt, about that. But it would have been worse without him, right? Gon traveling all over the world by himself? Just like his dad (who was still doing so, the jerk)? He decided that the gray was entirely Gon’s fault.

“We didn’t mean to embarrass you, Mito-san,” Gon said gently, and Killua considered throwing a few pots himself.

“Do you know what they say, down at the market?” Mito-san asked evenly. “They say, poor Mito, no children of her own, and now no grandchildren, either.”

They could probably bring her a ‘grandchild’ or two, if she wanted to take care of possessed infants or homeless monsters.

“It doesn’t bother me. I thought it would, but really--” Mito-san paused, and then laughed a little. “Do I want to take care of a girl who is taking care of a child, waiting for you to come back home and visit? I don’t think for a moment you’d feel safe taking your wife around with you. No. I’d be my mother, taking care of myself, the cycle beginning anew.”

Gon and Killua exchanged a look. Mito-san: embarrassment, guilt, and not-so-carefully meted out punishment. Everything a mother should be.

“But what does bother me,” Mito-san said, her voice starting to rise, “is the property damage.”

“But--”

“Every single time!” she roared, slamming both hands down on the table and knocking over all three mugs of tea. “I wouldn’t mind affection! I shouldn’t mind affection! But every time you so much as kiss you have to follow it up with fighting, and there go my walls! And the entire island knows!”

Killua was struggling hard with laughter. Gon, unflappable Gon, had a face redder than Bisuke’s lipstick.

“So.” Her voice was deadly quiet. “Now that you understand my position, you will agree to behave yourselves in my house. That means no cuddling, no kissing--certainly nothing else! Until you can learn to be responsible about it. And for anything more than kissing or cuddling, you will never be responsible enough, so don’t bother asking,” she added, glaring at Killua. 

He smiled back, as innocently as he knew how. And that’s not very innocent.

“You will agree,” she said again, and it was very definitely not a question. 

Feeling Gon’s eyes on him, Killua shrugged, still smiling. “Okay, Mito-san.”

Gon agreed, as well. “We’re sorry, Mito-san. We didn’t mean to--to--” He was still bright red. It was a surprisingly good look for him.

As Mito-san stood up abruptly, scolding about the tea, Killua leaned back and let his smile turn wicked. This time, Killua was going for gold. It was Gon’s turn to take responsibility for obeying his aunt.

***

After dinner, they trooped up to their room (still their room, after all; was Mito-san actually going to trust them or was she looking to catch them out?). Gon sighed as he shut the door, and looked at Killua mournfully.

“We can go camping tomorrow,” he said.

“Maybe,” Killua answered, digging into his pack. “If you want to miss Kurapika’s call. He said the fourteenth, right?”

“Yeah.” Gon slumped. Killua ignored him, finally finding his prize: a nearly whole bar of chocolate. If he hadn’t been sick to his stomach on the ship to Whale Island (finding out that the little orange bubbly things are fish eggs can do that to a man), it would never have survived, and he would never have had such a chance. Carefully unwrapping it, and taking care not to drool, Killua broke off a tiny piece and sucked it into his mouth.

He could hear the blood rush to Gon’s face, and he didn’t even have super-hearing.

“What-- Killua--”

“I guess I should’ve eaten more at dinner,” Killua said, grinning widely. “I’m still hungry.”

And he licked the tip of his finger before breaking off another, rather larger, piece.

“Killua, that’s not--” Gon gulped, and pointed an accusing finger. “That’s not very nice.”

“You’re right,” Killua agreed, licking his lips. “Did you want some?”

Gon looked torn. “But-- Killua, what about Mito-san?”

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Killua said, working assiduously at licking up the chocolate he'd managed to smear across his palm. “I’m eating. She never said anything about eating; except that I had to eat the tomato. And I did.”

Gon’s eyes were as wide as saucers. They widened further when Killua slid his tongue up his thumb, and then sucked the digit into his mouth.

“And since I was so good,” Killua continued, pulling his thumb out of his mouth with a pop, “I think I deserve a... reward.”

The door slammed back so hard it rebounded twice, and Gon ran out like all of hell was after him.

Killua licked the last bit of chocolate from his fingers and smiled.


End file.
